Afraid of the Dark - James Grippando [81]
“Good-bye, my friend,” Jack whispered through the lump in his throat.
It was after dark when Jack reached the Sunny Gardens Nursing Home.
Grandpa Swyteck was in bed, staring at the television on the credenza, as Jack entered the room. The other bed was empty, and a nurse was emptying drawers and bagging up the roommate’s belongings. Jack didn’t have to ask what that meant, not in a place where most residents were eighty-five or older. Just twenty-four hours earlier, Jack would have bet his car that the next funeral in his life was going to be his grandfather’s.
Life’s weird.
The Goderich family returned to the house after the internment. Shivah—the period of mourning when visitors would stop by to express their condolences—would not begin until after the Sabbath. Although Neil’s widow had invited Jack to join them for Shabbat eve dinner, he sensed that it was best to leave the family to itself. As much as Jack didn’t want to be alone, he didn’t feel like stopping by Cy’s Place to watch Theo work. He wished Andie were back, but he hadn’t heard from her, which surely meant that, wherever she was, news of Neil’s death had not yet reached her.
“You can take a break,” Jack told the hired bodyguard. Theo had kept his promise and found serious muscle to sit with Grandpa after the threat. This guy had to be six feet eight, Jack estimated as he watched him leave the room.
“Hi, Grandpa,” said Jack.
The older man gazed in Jack’s direction, showing little reaction at first. Truthfully, Jack barely recognized him anymore. He’d shed twenty-five pounds in the nursing home, and it showed in his face. Jack had always known his grandfather as having long wisps of silver hair, but now a buzz cut was necessary to keep him from yanking it out in fits of confusion. Breathing through his nose was too much effort anymore, so his mouth was constantly agape. Finally, the recognition flashed on Grandpa’s face.
“Jack, how are you?”
Jack smiled. It was hit-and-miss with Grandpa, some good days and some bad days. Nighttime was generally tougher than daylight. Sunset was worst of all—sundowner syndrome, they called it.
The nurse kept busy packing, but she glanced over and said, “We didn’t have a good sunset at all today. Lots of confusion. But he seems to be coming back a little. You can give it a try. He may have a few good minutes left for you tonight.”
Jack held his tongue. He knew she was trying to be helpful, and he was fully aware that his grandfather’s condition was irreversible. But it still bothered him the way so many people felt free to talk about his grandfather’s condition right in front of the man, as if he were already gone.
Jack reached through the bedside restraining bars and took his grandfather’s hand. Grandpa’s gaze slowly rolled in Jack’s direction. A little smile creased his lips, and he raised a crooked finger, pointing at Jack’s head.
“You see?” said Grandpa. “I told you.”
Jack was confused, but then it hit him. He’d been in such a daze that he was still wearing the yarmulke from Neil’s funeral, completely unaware of it.
“I wore it out of respect for a friend,” said Jack as he removed it. “We buried Neil today.”
“Neil who?”
It saddened Jack that his grandfather didn’t remember. “Neil Goderich.”
“Goderich? That sounds about as Jewish as Petrak.”
“The original family name was Goldsmith. They changed it to hide from the Nazis.